


once and future queen

by springty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Queen Gwen (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springty/pseuds/springty
Summary: after camlann, after arthur's death, gwen is camelot's sole monarch. she bears the responsibility well, though it is not without challenges, as she presides over a new era in camelot's history.
Relationships: Gwen/Leon (Merlin), past Gwen/Arthur Pendragon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

“ _The king is dead. Long live the queen!”_

Leon’s voice reverberated through the throne room, and was met with a resounding echo from the people of Camelot; _long live the queen._ Gwen sat upon the throne, her expression severe. Her husband was gone, and she now bore the weight of responsibility as the sole monarch of Camelot, but her face betrayed none of that. If ever there was a woman capable in the face of all this, Leon thought, it was Gwen.

She was more than capable. Guinevere Pendragon was a goodly queen; benevolent but decisive. Any enemy who thought Camelot weakened in the wake of Arthur’s death would have been sorely mistaken. Rather, the kingdom flourished. It was Gwen, not Arthur, who presided over what could truly be called the Golden Age of Camelot. As king, Arthur had strived to make Camelot a fair and just place and Gwen continued to do so as queen. In the one area where Arthur had failed to make Camelot a just and hospitable place for all, Gwen succeeded.

Legalizing magic was one of Gwen’s first major actions as Queen of Camelot. It was long overdue and she knew it, and it only seemed fair to do so after magic had granted them their victory at Camlann.

No, not magic. Not some anonymous sorcerer, some vague abstraction. _Merlin_ had granted them their victory at Camlann.

When Gwen tried to give Merlin her thanks for what he had done, he only responded with remorse over Arthur. “All my magic, and I couldn’t save the one person I was supposed to,” he had said, which made Gwen’s heart ache. It wasn’t Merlin’s fault, Arthur’s death. She knew Merlin struggled with the grief, as she did herself, but she could not blame Merlin when she knew he would have done anything for their king. 

She didn’t know how to comfort Merlin. She knew, intimately well, how he felt- they had both lost the man they loved, after all. And yet, when she spoke to him about it, or at least tried to, her words felt hollow. _I’m sorry. I miss him too._ It was all she could muster.

Gwen hoped, at least, that the legalization of magic would be some small comfort to Merlin, that he would not be living under the axe any longer. An acknowledgement that his gifts would no longer go unappreciated. She consulted with him throughout the process. She knew little of magic, herself, and relied on Merlin (and Gaius) for guidance on creating new rules and regulations surrounding it. She even offered Merlin a position as Court Sorcerer, but he had respectfully declined. He had said it was because he thought himself better suited to working under Gaius. Gwen secretly thought it was because, even after everything, Merlin still didn’t think himself worthy of the title (and she was right). The position of Court Sorcerer then went unfilled; Gwen couldn’t bear to appoint anyone else.

Her decision to legalize magic was met with some resistance, of course. There were still those who had bought in entirely to Uther’s propaganda about sorcery’s inherent evils. Some even tried to use her decision as evidence that she was mad, not fit to rule the kingdom. Luckily, such people were in the minority. Those closest to her- Leon, Percival, Merlin, Gaius- firmly supported the action, and most at least warmed up to it eventually. Gwen found herself quite pleased, and at least on some level, she recognized that she was ushering in a new era for Camelot.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

The Round Table, of course, stayed. It embodied all that had changed for the better under Arthur’s rule, and as such would not be going anywhere anytime soon. But the air that hung over every gathering had changed much since Camlann, and it was several weeks before it was remotely the same as before. Gwen sat where Arthur once had, Leon and Percival at either side of her. There were empty chairs, now, not removed or filled. Gwen had offered Merlin a seat, but he didn’t take it.

Merlin, instead, simply stood at the table. He always hovered behind an empty seat, the one beside Percival. Everyone remembered who had occupied it. Sometimes, when Leon would rise from his seat and address the court, he would still expect to hear some quip or comment from that direction. It always hit him as hard as the first time when he had to remind himself that Gwaine wasn’t there, or looked over and saw the empty chair. The difficult first weeks after Arthur’s death were when Leon, and many of the other knights, found themselves needing Gwaine’s humor and levity the most. And yet. And yet, a vacuum of silence was all that filled the spaces where Gwaine’s voice should have been, and all there was instead was an empty chair that Percival looked at with sad eyes, and a necklace that Percival gave to Merlin. 

The queen strove to conduct business at the Round Table best she could, despite the grief that hung over them all, herself included. Such was her duty. A duty made more difficult still by the fact that shortly after the Battle of Camlann and Arthur’s death, she’d found herself feeling unwell. It was only a bit of nausea, and she didn’t want to trouble Gaius or Merlin. She’d assumed it was probably a result of grief or stress or both, and didn’t begin to entertain any more serious possibility. If it got worse, she would tell Gaius, she decided. That was fine and good until it became apparent to others that she might not be feeling her best physically as well as emotionally.

A wave of nausea had struck her while sitting at the Round Table, listening to a report from one of the knights. Apparently it was more obvious than she had hoped, because Leon asked her in a hushed voice, so as not to interrupt anything, if she was alright.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, placing a hand over his.

Leon looked at her frowningly. “Are you sure, my lady?” he asked. “You don’t look well.”

“Leon, I’m-” She felt her stomach lurch and grimaced. “Well, perhaps I ought to see Gaius when we’re done here.”

After business of the court was concluded, Sir Leon escorted the queen to Gaius’ chambers. Merlin, somehow, had already made it there before they arrived. Gaius urged Gwen to have a seat, and in the middle of explaining to him what was wrong, she threw up.

Gaius grimaced. “Oh, dear.” He looked over at a wide-eyed Merlin. “Merlin, a word?” He led him aside.

“Is she alright??” Merlin asked.

“She’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I suspect she… may be with child.”

Merlin sputtered. He didn’t know what he expected Gaius to say, but that clearly caught him quite off guard. “A-Arthur’s child?” he stammered.

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Gaius replied, and Merlin’s head spun.  _ Arthur’s child. _ An heir to the throne of Camelot, a piece of Arthur that is  _ alive. _ He was brought out of his thoughts when Gaius spoke again. “You’ll need to use magic to find out for certain, this early.”

Right. He could do that. He and Gaius returned to the queen, who looked rather pale. Merlin placed a hand on Gwen’s stomach and murmured an incantation, and his eyes went wide.

“What??” Gwen asked, sounding concerned. “Merlin, what is it?” 

“Well- Gwen- uh-” He didn’t know how to tell her. “You’re… pregnant.”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

The words caught Gwen quite by surprise. She knew it was a possibility, of course, but she still hadn’t expected it. She didn’t know what to say. “I… oh.” She took a deep breath. How was she meant to rule a kingdom and raise a child on her own? Arthur should have been here for this, she thought. She hadn’t noticed, as the worry and grief took up her mind, that tears had begun welling up in her eyes.

Sir Leon was still there; he had escorted her to Gaius. “...my lady, are you alright?”

She nodded hurriedly. “Of course, of course.” She wiped her eyes. “I hadn’t expected this.” Leon simply nodded in understanding.

Soon after the discovery that Gwen was pregnant, Gaius began making regular preparations for the health of both mother and unborn child, sending Merlin to deliver them to the queen. One day Merlin walked into her chambers to deliver the small vial only to find Guinevere, his queen and his friend, crying.

“My lady?” he said softly. “Gwen?”

She looked up. “O-oh. Merlin, I…” She sniffled, feeling rather embarrassed that Merlin had seen her like this.

“From Gaius,” he murmured, handing her the bottle. He slowly sat beside her. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated for a moment, but she knew that Merlin would not judge her for how she felt. “I feel so  _ alone _ ,” she confessed. “And I know- I know that I’m not, I have you and Leon and everyone else, but I-” Her voice broke.  _ I miss him. I don’t want to do this alone. _

Merlin looked so sad, and Gwen felt guilty to put all this on him. She knew he missed Arthur just as much as she did, if not even more. She didn’t know exactly what Arthur had meant to him, but she knew it was a great deal. “I understand,” he said.

“I don’t want to raise this child on my own,” she continued. “I can’t. And I fear a widowed and pregnant queen will make Camelot look weak.” Merlin frowned, but didn’t say anything. Gwen continued. “Perhaps I should remarry.” Speaking it out loud made her feel even more guilty than when the thought had crossed her mind before. She knew it would be only for the best, if she did, but it still felt like a betrayal of Arthur. But Arthur wasn’t  _ here _ , and she didn’t know what else to do.

“I think... I think Arthur would understand,” Merlin said eventually. “You shouldn’t feel guilty.” It was though he had read her mind. “He would want you to do what you thought was best for yourself and for Camelot.”

She smiled a bit and wiped her eyes. “Thank you, Merlin.”

“Of course.”

Gwen soon began drafting a list of potential candidates for her marriage. She initially considered a few princes of other kingdoms, but crossed their names off. She didn’t want to marry someone she did not know and trust, even if this was not a marriage of love. As she brainstormed, she turned her thoughts to the Knights of the Round Table. Percival was very kind, of course, but it felt improper to suggest marriage to someone who had once had eyes for her late brother. Then she thought of Leon. Of course. Leon. They had known each other since they were children; she knew he held her in high regard. She only hoped he would not view her proposition as disrespectful to Arthur. She would have to speak with him. He was the perfect fit.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Guinevere spent a few days further considering the prospect before she broached the subject with Leon. She wanted to be certain that she wanted to do this. She still felt some guilt over the prospect of remarrying when she thought about Arthur, but Merlin had been right. If this was what she felt to be the right decision, Arthur would understand. He had made her his queen and entrusted his kingdom to her for a reason, after all. When she had finally made up her mind, she called Leon to her chambers to discuss the matter privately. 

“Come in!” she called when she heard a knock, and Leon stepped inside.

“You asked to see me, my lady?”

She smiled a bit. “I’ve told you, Leon, you don’t need to call me that,” Gwen insisted. She knew Leon was nothing if not a man of propriety, but no one she used to chase frogs with as a child had any need to address her as ‘my lady.’

“Right. Of course.” He hesitated a moment. “What do you need, my lady?”

She chuckled. “I wanted to speak with you. I have a… proposition.” Leon was silent, waiting. “I think it would be a good idea for me to remarry.”

“Oh.” Leon frowned slightly. So soon after Arthur? He hadn’t expected that. “May I ask why?”

“For one thing, I don’t wish to raise this child on my own,” she explained. “And I believe a marriage would show strength and bring unity. I don’t want anyone to think us weak after Arthur’s death.”

“No one could think Camelot weak with a queen like you, my lady.” He said it without thinking, and he meant it wholeheartedly. “If you believe a marriage to be best, then I see no reason to disagree.” He didn’t say anything about Arthur; anything he could say he knew Gwen was likely already thinking. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Actually, that’s why I wanted to speak with you.”

Leon didn’t follow. “You want my… recommendations?”

Gwen laughed and shook her head. “No, not exactly. I’ve already considered. And I think, if you’re willing, you would be the ideal candidate.”

Leon stared at his queen. “Me? Are you certain?”

“You’re more than welcome to say no,” she assured him.

“I’m not saying no!” he said quickly. “I’m not saying no. I’m simply rather surprised.”

“Really? I thought you were quite the obvious choice. You’re an honorable man, you’ve been my friend for years, and I trust you with my life just as Arthur did.”

He took a deep breath. “Then I would be honored to be your husband, my lady.”

“Are you certain?” she asked. “I wouldn’t want you to do this simply out of obligation.”

“Of course. Quite certain.”

She smiled at that. “Well, then, if you’re going to be my husband, you can stop calling me ‘my lady’ and start calling me Gwen. Guinevere, at least.”

“Whatever you ask, Guinevere.” Leon hesitated a moment before taking her hand and kissing it, and he thought he saw a faint blush on her cheeks. He left the room smiling.

They did not waste time in preparing for the wedding, and it was held soon after it had been agreed upon. Many were quite surprised by Guinevere’s decision to remarry, but anyone who thought negatively of it didn’t say so to her face. Leon explained to Percival that he and Gwen did not regard each other romantically, that the marriage was simply in the best interests of Camelot. Leon didn’t understand why his fellow knight didn’t seem to believe him.

Merlin, despite himself and the ache he still felt over Arthur, attended the wedding and watched with a smile upon his face, standing beside Gaius. He truly believed what he had told Gwen; Arthur would understand this. Though he knew the reason for the marriage was political, he could tell that Gwen and Leon were still both happy with it. They deserved that, he thought, watching as his friends were wed and Leon was crowned prince consort. They deserved to be happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Leon settled into his new role of prince consort rather easily. It came with a whole host of new duties and responsibilities, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Percival took up Leon’s previous position as First Knight, naturally. Despite his new responsibilities, however, Leon still accompanied the knights on the training ground whenever he was able. Knighthood had occupied such a large portion of his life. He could not easily abandon that, and he was grateful that no one, including Gwen and the other knights, seemed to expect him to. 

Settling into being Guinevere’s husband was not as easy for him. It wasn’t that he was unhappy being married to her - he wouldn’t have agreed to marry her if he thought he would be unhappy with it. And he still enjoyed her company a great deal, just as he always had. It just felt… strange. He struggled to sleep the first few nights he shared a bed with Gwen, through no fault of the queen or anyone else. Rather, he couldn’t get past the fact that he was sleeping in his dead king’s - his dead _friend’s_ bed, next to his dead friend’s wife. He underestimated just how much Arthur’s presence, or lack thereof, would weigh on him.

Leon and Gwen’s marriage remained within the bounds of political counsel and friendship. Leon didn’t expect any differently; he knew that would be the situation when he agreed to marry her. Nor did he want any differently. He cared for Gwen immensely, but only as a friend. And even if he did desire her romantically - which he did _not_ \- he wouldn’t dare initiate anything. He couldn’t.

Gwen, as much as she was able, refused to allow her pregnancy to interfere with her duties as queen or her everyday life. She did as much as she could without it being irresponsible. She did not want her life to be put at a standstill, but she didn’t want any harm to come to her child, either. She took care of herself, and followed Gaius’ instructions and took any potions he prepared for her (even when she didn’t particularly understand what they were for; Gaius certainly knew what he was doing). Especially as she progressed further in her pregnancy, people became rather fussy over her. She supposed she could understand why; she was pregnant with the next prince or princess of Camelot, after all. And she appreciated everyone’s concern, of course, but she was _fine_. Leon scarcely left her side. Whether that was out of concern for her and the baby or something else, she couldn’t say, but he was a dear friend and she hardly minded the company.

Even nine months pregnant, and too swollen to properly pull her seat in, the queen still sat at the Round Table and regularly conducted business. Frankly, she didn’t know why she was surprised when she felt the pain in her abdomen. She winced and put a hand over her stomach, and Leon was immediately asking her what was wrong. She told him, through gritted teeth but otherwise with impressive composure, that she was fairly certain that she was going into labor. He immediately rose and took her to Gaius’ chambers.

Several hours of excruciating pain later, Gwen gave birth to a baby boy. Her son, and Prince of Camelot. She was _exhausted_ , but still insisted upon holding him, and Gaius handed the little boy over. Merlin asked her for his name.

Gwen gazed lovingly at her new son despite her exhaustion, cradling him in her arms. “Thomas,” she murmured. It felt only right; it felt natural to her to name him after her father. “Thomas Elyan Pendragon.”

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Leon loved the boy from the first moment he held him. From the moment Gwen gingerly placed the baby in his arms, he knew he would do anything for him. He knew he wasn’t related to Thomas by blood, he recognized that, but he still felt the same fierce protectiveness over him that parents must feel for their children. And, he presumed, he was the boy’s parent, in practice. Someday he would tell him about Arthur, when he was older. But for a long time, he would be the only father that Thomas would know. That, to him, was an honor. He doted on him as he grew up. When he began to speak, he called Leon Papa. Leon nearly cried the first time he heard it.

Thomas looked more like Elyan than either of his parents. He had his mother’s complexion, but his eyes, his nose, his smile - that was all Elyan. It made Leon’s heart ache to think of for too long. Elyan should have been here to meet his nephew. He would have loved him.

Gwen was impressed with Leon’s parenting. She should have known that Leon would be a good father, and it wasn’t that it surprised her. But she adored watching Leon with their son, the way he doted on him and held his hand as he toddled around the castle and explained things to him and told him stories. _Their son_ , she thought. He was no less Arthur’s son, still, but Leon was the one here with her to raise him. And he was so _good_ at it.

She was alarmed by the thought when it first struck her. She was watching Leon with Thomas, smiling fondly and listening to him tell their son some story about an arrogant young prince that sounded awfully familiar. It hit her just then - she loved him. She loved Leon, and when she gave it a second thought she knew that shouldn’t have surprised her.

It was not the same love she had felt for Arthur, or the same as she had felt for Lancelot, but different was not the same as lesser than. She didn’t know when these feelings had begun, but no doubt his presence at her side through all this had fostered it. And now, seeing him with Thomas, made her truly realize how grateful she was to have married the man. She loved him.

After she got Thomas tucked into bed, she crawled into bed with Leon. He smiled warmly at her.

“Leon?” she murmured. “I…” She wanted to tell him. She wanted him to know that she loved him, but she couldn’t find the words, and she was worried about how he might react. Perhaps he didn’t think of her like that. Perhaps he would think she had moved on too quickly. Abruptly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Leon’s eyes widened. Guinevere kissed him, and he couldn’t understand why. He wasn’t _complaining_ , per say, but - well, this wasn’t proper, right? Perhaps the queen had a bit too much wine with dinner, although she didn’t seem drunk. His head spun, and he gently pushed her away. “I don’t know if…” He didn’t know what he meant - if what? 

She tried not to look hurt. “...I love you,” she admitted. 

He stared. He had begun to consider that he might have less than platonic feelings for the queen, but he had never thought she would reciprocate, and so had ignored them. But here she was, and Leon didn’t know what to do. To have married her felt like enough of a betrayal to Arthur, to _actually_ be with her… but, though he wished to deny it, he did have feelings for you. “And I you,” he said past the lump in his throat, “but perhaps this isn’t the best idea.”

“And why not?” She questioned. She reached up to cup his face, and he shuddered at her gentle touch. “Leon, you are my husband. Grant me this.”

Immediately, his expression softened. “I would grant you anything,” he murmured. “And not just because you are my queen.”

Gwen smiled and kissed him again, and this time, Leon returned it.


End file.
